


a song just for the two of us

by niiiiix



Category: Homestuck
Genre: First Kiss, I honestly, M/M, Oneshot, am not sure what else to add, its cute they’re cute boys i care them, uhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25767430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niiiiix/pseuds/niiiiix
Summary: john n dave are playing tony hawk and before he knows it, dave’s hand is on his chin, telling him to look up at the screen, and he’s closer and leaning in and in and in.
Relationships: John Egbert/Dave Strider
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	a song just for the two of us

John was absolutely, positively fucking _terrible_ at Dave’s Tony Hawk games. He could never confidently step on a skateboard in real life (though he picked up some quad-roller skate skills in middle school), let alone figure out the damn button combination to do a kickflip on a virtual one. 

“Dude,” Dave starts again, pushing his shades up his nose and inevitably about to tell John how to do this. “It isn’t that fuckin’ hard. In real life skating, kick flips are probably the first thing you learn because you don’t even have to be on the skateboard for them, until you do.”

John threw his arms up in the air in annoyance. “‘Until you do’? That’s bullshit! What does that even mean?”

Dave smiles a little, and John watches himself grin back in his shades before he realizes he’s doing it. “That you can practice it without hopping on until you’re confident. But in the game, mister Hawk-man here is absolutely ready, John. He is fuckin’ prepared. He’s been waiting on this kickflip his whole life. All you gotta do to fulfill his lifelong dream is B-A-up. Imagine the disappointment in his kid’s eyes. They’ll go, ‘papa, did you do it yet?’ and he’ll knock down some shots and say no, he knew he never could. Now you’ve left some motherless kids with an alcoholic father, John. Not cool, dude.”

“I didn’t even attempt it yet!” John tries really hard to sound upset, but all that comes out of his mouth is laughter. John looks down at the controller, always confusing B and A. 

Dave once joked about it and said he was dyslexic, and immediately after Rose started looking up other symptoms and traits of dyslexia and before he knew it he was home-diagnosed. Dave shook his head sadly at that. ‘now you can’t proof-read my raps,’ He’d said remorsefully, though something was glowing just a bit brighter inside him because the coolest person he knew said that he had the chance to proof read his raps, and John knew how important that was. Even if it was a mocking, passing comment he made while waiting for microwave popcorn to pop, he still immediately thought of John to double-check what was closest to his heart. He thought about that a lot, really. 

He mashed the buttons when he had the opportunity, managing not to do a kick flip but something called a ‘Totyally Canktankerours Flippy Doo’, which left Dave’s mouth hanging open. “What. The. Fuck.” He said, enunciating more than John was used to. For a second, he actually thought he did something wrong. His triumphant grin faded a tad. “That’s the one achievement I’ve never been able to get, I...” He trailed off, and John guessed that past the sunglasses was a slight, likely ironic, look of regret. 

“I guess I’m just that talented, huh?” John said, smiling with half of his mouth and waving the controller around for emphasis. 

Dave scoffed. “No way. That was purely just beginner’s luck! You still can’t do the first trick- try it again.”

John whined. “Do I have to? Can’t I just watch you beat your own high score for the rest of the night?” He asked, drawing out the ‘a’ in have. 

Dave nodded solemnly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “No, J. where doing this bro. where making this hapen.”

John almost threw the controller in frustration. “ _Bluh_! How do you even do that? I swear, your voice somehow changes whenever you reference your shitty comic.” He screwed up his face and stuck out his tongue for good measure. 

John saw something flicker across his face, and he relented quietly. He looked down at the controller, failing again to remember the button map. “Okay, no. Your comics aren’t shit. And I kind of think it’s really cool how many people like them.” He presses another similar array of buttons. “Dave! I almost had it that time, didja see?”

Dave has a small smile on his mouth, and he shakes his head. “Neither did you, though. You need to look up at the screen, or else you’ll crash.” Dave’s hand grab’s John’s chin like it’s second nature, pulling him up to the screen just past Dave. 

And John can hear something loud in the back of his throat, persistent and pulsating. He can feel it on his chin, too, pumping through Dave’s fingers and sending shockwaves up his neck. And he’s never felt anything like this, and his brain shuts down. The last thing he thinks of is how pink he looks in Dave’s shades before leaning in and quickly pressing his lips against Dave’s. 

And he doesn’t feel anything in the moment, it’s as if he’s totally numb from adrenaline. He doesn’t register what Dave’s lips feel like, he doesn’t register the twitch in his fingers on his jaw, and he doesn’t catch the strangled noise coming from Dave’s throat. All he can feel is the static around them, the air that’s buzzing with empty. 

He pulls back and snaps back into his body, catching the last thirty seconds in snapshots, loading from his body to his brain like uploaded pictures on shitty wifi. And once he’s getting them, holy fuck, why hasn’t he done this before? Dave’s lips were slow and accommodating, almost foreign to the rest of him. His fingers, though there wasn’t much contact there, were thrumming, shooting bass lines into his heart, a beat just for John. A song just for the two of them. 

And then John’s back in the moment, a shocked, unsurprisingly wordless Dave just next to him. A steady red flush filled his cheeks and his hand fell and John had absolutely, positively no clue what to say. 

“Dave,” His voice was still electric, putting so much more into the energy around them than his words ever could. 

The boy shook his head and took off his shades. His heart sunk. John could hardly see his eyes, the lighting was working against him and he almost cursed for it. He wanted to see his best friend’s eyes, he needed to, he couldn’t explain why. Maybe there was a small part of him that said just one last time that told him so, and it would be a logical conclusion to draw that Dave didn’t want this. He didn’t actively kiss him back, even, he just sat there! The voice was amplifying his screw up, but right when his eyes started to sting, his cheeks got a hell of a lot warmer and he peeked over his eyelashes to see Dave holding his face. 

It could have been a trick of the light, but John almost swore he saw a tear. 

And Dave pulled him in, so close, so fast, a sincere motion. He kissed him again, and with John in his own head this time, he got what was going on as it was. 

Dave’s lips were chapped and rough, and so were his hands. But they beckoned more out of him, pulling him closer and touching him sweeter. He tasted like fake sugar (John guessed it was from apple juice) and a little bit like sweat, John decided, and it tasted _so good_ because it was so _impossibly_ Dave, he didn’t know how to think anything else of it. 

John didn’t know how to kiss, he’d never done it before, but there was something instructing him from the back of his head, the only part that hadn’t melted into jelly. It told him to get closer, put a hand on his hip, another on his shoulder, and John obliged, obliged, obliged because he was so hopelessly wrapped in Dave he couldn’t think of any other thing to do. He felt warm all over and safe, really, even though he should have been scared, even though this was something he’d always thought was wrong, he let go of that the second Dave touched him again. There’s no way that this could be dirty, or sinful, when it felt like the most natural thing to do. 

He pulled back for air once he felt light headed, pushing his forehead on Dave’s chest. Partly so he wouldn’t have to look at him. He doesn’t know why, but that sounded really, really hard. 

“Dave, I...” He trailed off, not knowing where to start. 

John felt something above him pull, and he figured Dave was looking up. “Yeah.” And in such a simple word, said so softly, John felt a jerk behind his chest, near his heart, because he knew exactly what he was going to say before he said it. “Yeah, me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this at like uhhhhhh 12:40 am because i was having johndave emotions.


End file.
